Be Excellent, Gold
by Maximilian Bonaparte
Summary: Ethan needs to work for Professor Elm, is he prepared? Professor Elm finds Ethan Kingsley to be an interesting character. Follow Ethan as he journeys to find himself and greatness.


Be Excellent, Gold

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon

Sitting in the chair next to Prof. Elm's office, I pondered how the approaching interview would dictate the rest of life. If I wasn't hired to work at Elm's lab, all my plans for the future would crumble, well, at least partially. This was the closest to desperate I have ever been. I would take a job scraping pokemon excrement from the floors of the pens if it meant I could work at the lab. It wasn't that I needed the money (however much that would be appreciated) It was more true to say that I wanted to get in good with the Professor. Or rather, I needed to make a name for myself and get noticed by someone. I practically had to beg to even gain an audience with Professor Elm. I spent two weeks phoning the Lab office, and visiting the receptionist almost every day to even be considered to meet with the Professor. The receptionist likely got fed up with telling me to leave and scheduled a meeting so the Professor could tell me to leave himself, so I could be out of her hair.

After asking my instructors (and snooping around using some less than permissible methods) I learned that the professor would take this interview as serious as he took his research, if he would take it at all that is. He likely would ignore me if I asked for a job out of nowhere, I mean, who wants some teenager working in a government lab? There was almost no information on his interview records or what he was looking for in employees or anything.

I didn't know what to expect with the Professor. All I knew conclusively was that I could not underestimate him. As the Professor of Johto, Elm was literally a genius among geniuses. He was also the youngest regional professor, at the age of 30. Without having met the man, I was already intimidated.

The hallway I was sitting in was bland and silent. Every shuffle of my feet and rustle of my clothes would echo through the entire hallway and seemingly wake the dead. Sitting on the lone chair, the only soul in sight, I could feel nervousness slowly seep into my mind. I made an effort to calm myself by making my body go completely still, and closing my eyes with by back as straight as possible. I had to be ready to use good posture when the professor came around to make a good impression.

I was known amongst my classmates as the 'cool' one who never lost his nerve or gave in to anger. But, even now, I was feeling myself lose some confidence and my hands started to shake. I gripped my clipboard containing my resume tighter, and my knuckles turned white.

I heard the door next to me suddenly open, and I snapped to attention quickly, standing tall and facing the professor without a moment's hesitation.

"Come in," he said curtly. He sounded annoyed, angry even. He didn't even look at me as he went back into his office, leaving the door open. I couldn't see his face yet as he had turned around too quickly for me to see, but I could tell that he was thin and very tall, with a small bald spot at the crown of his head.

I took a moment to gather myself, looking down at my clothes to see they were wrinkle free. As I stepped in the office, I saw the Professor standing with his arms crossed looking at me from the center of the room. His piercing eyes narrowed and his mouth moved into a deeper frown.

"What do you need." He spoke tensely and kept his gaze on me. His features were round and soft, aside from his chin which jutted sharply from his rounder jaw, and he had a few days' stubble adorning his face. His thick glasses nearly hid his eyes, but I could make out that they were certainly trained on my every move, calculating my expression. They were sharp and intelligent. I smiled almost cheekily.

"I'm Ethan Kingsley, and I'm here for the interview I scheduled." I extended my hand with the resume towards his imposing form, and flashed a smile.

Prof Elm snatched the clipboard from my hand and glared at me. "I don't remember making an appointment for anything of the sort." His gaze was beginning to make me uneasy, but I managed to keep a straight face. A cheerful looking smile adorned my face, as though I were happy to be in his presence. In truth, I was terrified.

He glanced at the clipboard and seemed to notice something on the paper. "Kingsley. I've heard of you before. Some of your instructors were my former employees, they have spoken of you before." He walked slowly to his desk situated at the end of the room. "I don't usually give interviews to people, much less a student." He glanced at his watch and sighed. "Well, I don't see the harm in humoring you for a few minutes," he said. "Sit," he said quickly, gesturing to a chair, not unlike the chair I was sitting in previously, that sat a few feet in front of his desk.

"Thank you, Professor," I said genuinely. I was worried that he would send me away without a second glance when he saw I was only 16 and still in school.

The professor leafed through my portfolio with a blank expression, looking at each page for about five seconds before setting the clipboard down on his desk and looking at me. His gaze was less hostile this time, but still held an amount of annoyance. "Your resume seems solid, but I'd like to ask some questions."

Of course it's solid; I spent two grueling weeks perfecting it, making it say exactly what I wanted it to say. "Yes, Sir."

"What the Hell do you think you're doing, asking me to hire you?" he asked calmly as he leaned forward resting his hands on his desk. "We don't need any more workers, especially not one so young."

I was reeling for a moment before I swiftly righted myself, saying, "I wanted to contribute to the pokemon research community, Sir. I can't imagine myself anywhere else."

"Whatever," he said, clearly annoyed. He looked down to my resume and picked it up again. "So 1st in your class at Newbark. Think you're hot stuff don't ya'. You're not so special, I used half my witts and still came out on top there."

"I can relate a similar experience, sir," I said as levelly as I could manage. By now, any facade of cheerfulness was gone, as I saw that it would be worse than useless now, and I gave him my best poker face.

"Well at least you're not stupid," he said nonchalantly, still shuffling through the papers. "Student Body Vice-President, huh." He flipped to another page. "You're instructors don't seem to hate you either."

Damn right. I was the favorite student of all my instructors. I did them favors and I was an exemplary student. Although I didn't have to work very hard for my grades, I went all out when it came to my position in student council. Being, half-acknowledged by the professor like this was causing my eye to twitch a little, but having The Professor Elm comment on my achievements at all also stroked my ego somewhat.

The professor looked thoughtful for a moment and then started talking, "You know what? I'll cut you a deal." I perked up somewhat. This was a turnaround from what I had seen earlier. "Come here to my office, 0600 on Saturday. If you still want the job when I'm done with you, I'll think about hiring you."

"Thank you, Professor," I said calmly. I was relieved that things had gone so well. I bowed to him before making my way to the door. Just before I left, I looked back to see the professor still leafing through my resume, likely reading my instuctors' recommendations. I quickly left the building and made my way home.

The walk home took about half an hour, seeing as the Lab was somewhat out of the way of about everything. It was a huge complex, with several different buildings surrounding one large, four story facility. Off to the North there was Elm's research ranch, where a massive number of domestic and wild pokemon made their home.

The late summer air was warm and humid, causing my shirt to stick to my skin and my hair to dampen with sweat. Jack, the wild Aipom (however much he acts like a pet), greeted me as I stepped onto the path leading through the woods to my home. He chittered at me in banter and jumped up onto my forearm and scampered onto my head where he began tugging at my hair, his tail wrapping around my neck. I smiled at his antics and reached up to pat the affectionate monkey on the head and rubbed his ears.

My mother, a school teacher, had many pokemon feeders in our backyard and let the wild pokemon roam around our property. This was where I met Jack, as a young boy. She held a deep love for pokemon that I learned to share. Despite the violent and feral nature of wild pokemon, my mother would often find me playing with the local wild pokemon. She said I had this sort of effect on pokemon, that I could sense how pokemon were feeling, and I could calm them down. I distinctly remember an abnormally large Noctowl whom, until I touched, was extremely territorial and would resort to daytime hunting to get rid of those encroaching upon his territory. It would kill the small rattata and oddish and simply leave the bodies lying in the backyard as if as a warning. When my mother and I first encountered it, she feared for my safety and kept me inside for two days. When I was finally fed up with watching my friends die, I escaped in the night and confronted it.

The Noctowl was at first alarmed to see that a small boy had managed to sneak up his tree and touch its ankle. When I touched it, I felt a flash of despair and white hot fury emanating from the bird. However, it quickly calmed and looked into my eyes as I glared back. I could almost see regret in the bird's wide, yellow eyes. I still remember the distinct despair and anger the Noctowl shared with me, and I could feel its pain and suffering to the point where I had forgiven the bird. The Noctowl had flown away from its empty nest and never came back.

Remembering the event was painful for me, because I had seen my friends, one by one, plucked from the ground, carried into the air and then dropped on the hard dirt. I kicked a rock that rested on the pathway as I walked.

'Okay I need to focus,' I thought to myself. I reviewed in my head what my plan was. I was get a job working at the Lab and get the Professor to notice me. While there I would learn as much as possible and earn the favor of Prof Elm. These days, the age limit for a pokemon trainer's license was 16, raised from 14 several years ago as many young trainers had met their untimely deaths when dealing with pokemon unprepared. The authorities have since made it very difficult to get a pokemon trainer's licence, requiring explicit permission from a regional professor or gym leader. These are mostly done by mail, requiring an application, proof of residence, school records and recommendation. Just like the resume I gave to the Professor. Over the last year, the number of new trainers getting their license every year dropped by over 70% from an already shrinking rate. While getting a license was high on my priority list, I felt the need to gain the favor of the Professor in order to get ahead in terms of my standing in the pokémon community. If I wanted to have any chance of becoming someone important, I needed powerful friends.

While my academics and activities at school seemed to point me to a field in research or even politics, I found myself dreaming for the freedom and self-reliance that being a pokemon trainer had to offer. I had a desire, no, a need, to do something great to change the world. I didn't know at all what that would entail, but I knew I couldn't do it by staying in school. I also knew that I loved pokemon. Just being around them made me unexplainably happy, like I belonged with them. It also helped that Jack knew only the best ways to get me to smile.

If I thought about it, there was nothing more that I loved than being with pokemon. Just imagining a journey with no people to bother me and only pokemon by my side is enough to make me want to run away with Jack and my other friends into the woods. Well, if it weren't for the fact that I wouldn't be able to catch any pokemon or battle them that is. There was also my desire to have some kind of impact on the world. It was like I would be unsatisfied unless I did something great.

It was nearly sunset when I arrived at my house that evening. I looked off in the distance where the white peak of Mt Silver jutted into the horizon and the peak appeared to glow against the darkening sky. Rumors floated around that the former Indigo League Champion Red was living on the peak, sitting at the top of the world, watching the land from above, like a god. If it were true, I can only hope to one day meet someone so great.

[Edited 20 February 2015]


End file.
